


felid

by brandywine421



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Animal Transformation, F/M, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25656964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: "Where is he?""He's alive, just - Sister Maggie, do you want to explain?" Luke redirected his attention to the nun.She was sitting down twisting something - the black cloth from Matt's mask. "I'm sorry, I - ""It's not your fault, that Daddy motherfucker made you do it," Jessica muttered, her voice cracking as she reached toward the bookcase again."Jessica, please stop with the profanity, that's not why they call him Father," Luke groaned and Foggy spotted the swipe of a - was that a paw?"Jack never told him, I thought - surely - he should have told him but - the accident, why didn't I think to ask - " Maggie murmured, rocking herself slightly with a distant expression."What did you do?" Foggy asked her, forcing his eyes away from fresh claw marks on Jessica's hand."She saved his life, we think. But he's a cat," Luke said plainly. Foggy tried to unhear it immediately.
Relationships: Jessica Jones/Matt Murdock, Luke Cage & Jessica Jones & Matt Murdock & Danny Rand, Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Comments: 22
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many people have done this better but here is my take on Kitty!Matt because - kitties.

Foggy stared at the nun twisting her bloody hands, no, **not** bloody - she was _bleeding_ from long, thin scratches down both arms and across her throat. "What - you're bleeding," he managed, reaching for her arms.

She shook her head sharply, the likeness to Matt's _'do not want'_ reaction a familiar one that snapped his hand back to his side. "There's - "

"Nelson! Thank fuck, we need you - " Jessica's voice pulled him away from his uncomfortable moment with the nun - he would eventually manage to process her as Matt's mother just not yet. He found Jessica with matching scratches and Luke at her side scolding her about language - which fair, they were in a church - but - 

"What's going on? Where's Matt? Why is everyone bleeding?" Foggy asked, cataloging the room while they sputtered out answers but he zoned out when he spotted the pile of bloody clothes in an actual puddle of blood on the cot in the corner.

A puddle. On a cot red with blood had already soaked through the sheets and the mattress - a goddamn puddle - 

"Foggy," Luke said, his baritone breaking through the tunnel. "Hey."

"Where - "

"God, did you hear anything we just said?" Jessica snarled, pushing past him to the opposite corner and crouching down beside an old bookcase. "Please come out, this is ridiculous - _please_ \- "

"Where is he?"

"He's alive, just - Sister Maggie, do you want to explain?" Luke redirected his attention to the nun.

She was sitting down twisting something - the black cloth from Matt's mask. "I'm sorry, I - "

"It's not your fault, that Daddy motherfucker made you do it," Jessica muttered, her voice cracking as she reached toward the bookcase again.

"Jessica, please stop with the profanity, that's not why they call him Father," Luke groaned and Foggy spotted the swipe of a - was that a paw? 

"Jack never told him, I thought - _surely_ \- he should have told him but - the accident, why didn't I think to ask - " Maggie murmured, rocking herself slightly with a distant expression.

"What did you do?" Foggy asked her, forcing his eyes away from fresh claw marks on Jessica's hand.

"She saved his life, we think. But he's a cat," Luke said plainly. Foggy tried to unhear it immediately.

"Murdock boys got the devil in 'em," Maggie whispered, raising her eyes - Matt's eyes - to meet his. "I thought Jack would have told him - he was dying, I couldn't - God forgive me - "

He took a deep breath and wrapped his hands around her tiny fists. "Sister, if you saved his life then you're already forgiven. Pull yourself together and tell me exactly what you're talking about."

She inhaled through her nose and raised her chin but didn't match his gaze again.

"Father O'Connor knew Jack, knew his father and grandfather, too. Matthew - I couldn't save him, the doctors and - he said that - "

"Pulled eight bullets out of him before - " Jessica started but he glared her into silence.

"He wouldn't have made it to a hospital, there was nothing - I had to try something and - Jack never lied to me, but - I didn't believe it until - poof - "

Foggy accepted that disbelief wasn't a luxury he was allowed tonight and squeezed her hands before turning to Luke and asking under his breath, "Can you take her for a walk so she can wash up?"

He raised his voice and looked to both the women. "Okay, if Matt's a cat then let's think about this. His hearing and senses are probably going haywire and all these heartbeats rattling around are going to be extra loud."

There was a low yowl from the bookcase. **Goddamn**.

"Oh. Shit, I've always wondered how whiskers work," Jessica said with a startled expression.

"He should heal faster in his feline form but he was - he needs to stay that way long enough for his body to recover, too soon and he'll - " Maggie whispered.

"How did you make it happen if it's on his dad's side?" Foggy asked.

"There's a phrase gifted at birth, Jack heard it, learned it, when Matthew was born. Cats don't have the same capability for speech as people so they have to teach it to their family, the people they trust to turn them back," Maggie said in a steady voice but her hands shook when Luke offered his arm to help her stand. "I never - I didn't think it was real, I thought it was a metaphor that went over my head."

"That creepy priest tried to stay in the room to hear it; nobody but his ma and maybe you should get to hear it if that's the way it works so we called you. Can you please come out, Matt? Please," Jessica said, her voice cracking on her plea.

Foggy tapped Luke again, gesturing for his hoodie and snatching it before shooing him and the nun out of the room. He joined Jessica by the bookcase and passed her the hoodie. "Put it on."

"Why?"

"Because you know he'd want you to play transport if he had a choice," Foggy whispered to her. Matt didn't have to give his new 'love interest' a name for Foggy to know exactly who it was. "Put it on."

She put it on and Foggy schooled his voice into _'soft fun uncle'_ voice. "Matt. Do you understand me?"

Muffled mew meant yes.

"Good. I know you're upset and everything is awful and you're probably in pain but you trust me, right?" Another mew. "And Jessica?" Thank God there was another mew because now Jessica was trembling more than the nun.

"Awesome. We would really like to take you home. The smells will be ones you know and there won't be a building full of children to tweak you out. We'll take you home and make sure - "

"Hisssss."

Jessica glanced at him. "I don't speak cat but - "

Foggy nodded. "I promise I'll get the magic word from the nun before we leave the building - I swear, Matt."

"Mew?"

There was a pronounced question mark on that meow and - wait, what the fuck was his life right now?

"Is your heart rate slower yet?" Foggy asked Jessica who gave him a weird look followed by a flash of understanding.

One paw, then another, more matted with blood than the first but both with claws fully extended like - oh. "Can you not work your claws, buddy?"

"Meow," Matt replied, slinking out in a low crawl, tail flicking in frustration. He was satin white with reddish ears and head tuft and a striped tabby tail to match his face. Sporadic dots of black beneath the streaked blood ruined the fluffiness of his long hair. Still blind, Foggy decided when he mapped the blown wide cat pupils and ears pressed flat against his head, not using them to navigate.

"Are you hurt or just frustrated?" Jessica asked.

Matt didn't reply out loud, giving them a better answer by carefully climbing into her lap and turning his tiny head into her palm. She hummed in surprise. "Whiskers, huh?"

Foggy took advantage of the moment of peace to skim his hands over the small cat body, relieved to find no tangible injuries. "Not hurt?"

"Luke was across the street, if Matt hadn't - he took those bullets for me," Jessica said.

"You don't have super-secret cat powers to save your life so I doubt he regrets it, the bastard," Foggy said.

"Meow," Matt said, burrowing into the pocket of the hoodie.

"Go get that magic word, Nelson," Jessica said, curling her hands around the outside of the pouch protectively. "I won't trust that nun until we get Matt back. And that O'Connor punk can fuck right off forever," she added.

"I'm going to want to hear all about that later but right now we are staying calm as fuck and taking my best friend home," Foggy said.

* * *

"He told you about us?" Jessica asked, cradling her cat-pouch as she waited for Foggy to unlock the door.

"No, but I know he's been seeing someone on the slow burn protocol if my BFF radar's pinging correctly," he shrugged. "And I know you're his friend and you know his identity and the Sister-Mom and those are two of his highest level secrets so he likes you a lot even if it's not - "

"It is, might be, but - never mind," Jessica said as Matt let out a yowl and burst out of the pocket of the hoodie and skidded across the floor into the kitchen.

Foggy spotted him scrabbling up the counter with his claws to climb into the sink with a pathetic kitty whimper.

"Um. You sure you won't hate the bath more than - "

"Mrow," Matt cut him off, swatting at the faucet and catching the washcloth on a paw.

"Test the temperature first, and we aren't using soap - you might have to learn to lick - " Jessica started.

"Hisss," Matt replied, crouching down in the sink and trying to scrub his kitty face in the rag.

"If the smell of the blood is tweaking him, doubt the taste of it would be much better. We'll work with what we have, all right?"

Foggy started the water and made sure it was warm and not hot before pushing the faucet toward Matt.

Matt put his head into the stream of water, hissed and spat for a few seconds before immediately repeating it.

"Should be a bottle of whiskey in the bedroom, mind grabbing it when you bring some of the good towels?" Jessica asked, rolling up her sleeves.

He needed the break and went to fetch the supplies while she took over the cat-bath. 

_"Figures you'd be dramatic and needy, but I guess you deserve it. Didn't have to make the big save tonight, you fucking asshole."_

He hurried back into the kitchen and caught Jessica holding Matt by his front legs and shaking him, gently but - no. "Hey," he warned automatically, but - there was a muted rumble above the sound of the sink - purring.

Jessica didn't release the cat, turning to him with a curious look. "These dark spots are where he got hit, generally. I don't think tomcats can be calico, you know?"

"We can Google it or ask Sister Maggie, maybe once they fade we'll know it's time to turn him back."

"Meow!"

"Eight bullets - you left eight bullets in that mess of a suit when you cat-swapped. Take your medicine like a man, you whiner," Jessica snapped, dunking him back under the stream of water and swiping at his fur with the rag.

Matt was boneless under her attention so Foggy figured baths would be off his plate. "While you're enjoying your heavy petting, man, maybe we should discuss - "

"Hiss."

"Not cat food, you dunce, bathroom - like, do you think you'll need - "

"Hissss." He covered his head with his paws.

"We'll make Danny order one of those automatic ones that does all the scooping and has a privacy door and everything - unless you know how kitty anatomy works with a toilet," Jessica said. "He owes us for being late to the party tonight, skull fracture or not."

"Mow," Matt said.

"Shit, is he all right?" Foggy asked. "What happened tonight anyway?"

"One of Danny's low level informants turned out to have a high level grandpa. It's resolved, now, but I owe your cop buddy a favor for letting us sneak out before the feds got there," Jessica sighed. "They went for Danny first, then Luke before Matt and I got the call and everything went to shit tonight."

"Mew," Matt said, apparently satisfied with his wash and climbing out of the sink to paw at the towel.

"Moody bastard," Jessica said, affection lacing her voice as she roughly dried the cat and passed him to Foggy to bundle up like a burrito.

"Now, we will need lots of photos, to check the spots, of course," Foggy said, smiling at the rumbling purr from the towel-cat against his chest.

"On it, I need to update Luke and get those free supplies sent over anyway - thanks for coming so quickly tonight. We don't have his super-ears, but we heard him asking for you, and for last rites - thus the creepy priest getting brought in and Sister Maggie - "

"Mrow."

"She was really upset about the rites, but my point is - he gave his consent and shit for her to try the cat thing first."

"Good. Means he tried a little harder this time not to die," Foggy said, giving the bundle a squeeze and smiling at the disgruntled meow. "And he remembered our rules - I'm next of kin, not some interloper nun lady."

Jessica seemed to relax a notch and raised her phone for the first of many photos.

* * *

"I think we were right about the black spots, the ones on his belly are smudges today," Jessica said when Foggy arrived early the next morning with coffee, waffles and fresh tuna and salmon from the local fish market.

"Oh, so the night went okay? He didn't try to go prowling for evil mice or anything?" Foggy asked, nodding his thanks when Luke helped him with the groceries.

"Mrow!"

"Good morning to you, too," Foggy said, following the cat noises - hopefully happy ones - to the couch where Danny was sprawled with Matt the cat on knee, accepting gratuitous pets.

"Meditation works for cats, too, his chi was very uneven," Danny said. "He's got Van markings, we think he's the kind of cat that doesn't mind water."

"Me _ow_ ," Matt said.

"Clean, running water only, he will not lower himself to drink from a bowl," Jessica added.

"All I see is fluff, it really went okay?" Foggy asked, strumming his knuckles between the perked kitty ears.

"We came to an understanding. He figured out the claws and the tongue - " Jessica started, Matt demonstrating by flexing his right paw and then licking Foggy's finger with a rumbled purr.

"We think either his kitty toe pads are sensitive or he hates being small because he really likes being carried or on our shoulders," Luke contributed.

"Mew," Matt agreed.

"Still got spots, though," Foggy said, noting the black spots were more gray but still out of place in his starkly white fur.

"He took his morning bath when he was cat-creeping on me in the shower and tried to scrub them off with the loofah but - I'll take him as a cuddly furball as long as he doesn't come back as messed up as he was last night."

"Eight bullets is a miracle, kitty-cat, kitty-matt," Danny cooed, earning a clawless swipe as Matt climbed up Foggy's arm to perch on his shoulder. 

"Meow?" 

"Yes, he brought the lox, asshole," Jessica snickered. Matt licked Foggy's cheek in appreciation.

Yeah, Foggy could handle Kitty-Matt for a bit longer.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Foggy watched, enthralled as the Defenders set the table and Danny pulled out the chair for Matt to hop from Foggy's shoulder to take his seat with a polite meow of thanks.

"He talks a lot more as a cat but it's fricking adorable," Luke said, dipping out a spoonful of his coffee and placing it on the saucer for Matt to lick. He turned the cup to show the 'DECAF' scrawled across the side when Foggy started to question caffeine vs. cat.

He wondered if he should be worried that Matt was so docile - he'd seemed almost feral last night but maybe the cat-time wasn't as traumatizing and horrific as bleeding to death in the church basement.

Jessica put down a plate with small selections of the fish and the lox off to the side. Matt sniffed each tiny pile, raised his paw and extended three claws before using his 'fork' to bring a slice of fish to his mouth.

"Don't laugh, he doesn't like it when we watch," Danny whispered to Foggy but he could not look away as Kitty Matt made _'myow myow myow'_ sounds as he grubbed down on his meal.

"Let him have his omnomnom time," Luke smiled. "I really need him back on two legs unless you can give me a legal consult on the cheap."

Foggy frowned at him. "You're my client, not Matt's."

"Some of my friends got locked up when those assholes came after me," Luke winced. "And no offense, man, your Spanish is shit and they asked for him."

"Yeah, my Spanish **is** shit, but I'll be glad to look over their cases until he's back to normal," Foggy said.

"Mew meow," Matt said between bites.

"You're welcome, I'll make sure and take recordings for you," Foggy said. "But if it's pro bono then you'll owe me a consult on the bank fraud case."

"Mew," Matt agreed, flicking his tail in annoyance.

"Sorry for making his Defenders gig roll over into his real life again," Danny said.

"Don't apologize for asking for help when you're this far over your head, Danny," Foggy sighed. "We have backup plans at Nelson, Murdock and Page for situations like this - and lucky for you, Karen's out of town for a few weeks so we're already on reduced hours. Brett said you blew the lid off a major drug trafficking ring that nobody had on their radar."

"Definitely wasn't on mine, I was investigating an art theft," Danny admitted.

"Maybe visit the detective first before bothering Luke or Matt next time," Jessica muttered, swatting at him without making contact. "I could use the money."

"Meow mow."

"Yes, Matt, it is a learning curve," Foggy said, censoring whatever he meant in cat-speak.

* * *

"Are you worried that he's so well-behaved?" Foggy asked Jessica when they were alone with Matt again.

"No, yesterday was rough. He was so freaked when he went from choking on his own blood to cat - you know how he is, nothing spooks him and he was spooked. Now - well, he's getting used to it."

"Claws and licking, what else would he need?" Foggy asked.

Jessica hummed, strumming her fingers through Matt's soft hair while he flicked his tail like a slow metronome between them on the couch. "The shapes are probably different. I mean, the way I understand his 'sight' is that he uses sound and air currents to map his world but now he's much closer to the ground, his ears work differently and the fur has to be different than skin, right?"

"Meow," Matt nodded. He raised a paw and flexed his claw. "Hiss."

"I guess I didn't think about the skin aspect," Foggy considered. "Could be why he's so 'meowy', depending on his ears more than the combination of all his human senses."

Matt stuck out his cat-tongue and made an unhappy rumble.

"Pretty sure everything tastes 'wrong'," Jessica interpreted. "And his heart beats differently, I mean, not that I spend a lot of time listening to it or anything, but it's - if this is what he has to do to come back healthy then he's going to figure it out. We all will."

"Of course - I just worry because it's - "

"Meow. Meow," Matt said.

"Right," Jessica sighed. "His mom's coming with Father O'Connor, Matt wants you to talk to them about the whole history thing."

"Oh, he meowed all that to you?" Foggy asked suspiciously.

"He dragged the rosary into my lap and I don't think he wanted me to say his prayers because that's just asking for lightning to strike us both down," she muttered. "He trusts you to get a real read off the old priest and I - need to get some shit from my apartment and hit up the liquor store."

"Mew?"

"I gotta check my mail, babe, don't need you to pay my bills. Call me when they're gone and I'll be back to cat-sit."

"Hiss."

She smiled, scritching his ears fondly. "Pout about it all you want but I already blasphemed all over your Ma and her friends last night and if you were man-shaped, you'd tell me to back off."

"I've got a few questions saved up for Sister Maggie and Father O'Connor. I'll get the scoop and hopefully find out when he can be man-shaped again," Foggy agreed.

* * *

"So, how well did you know Matt's dad?" he asked after he'd let Sister Maggie and the Father into the neatened apartment. Matt was hiding under the bed, eavesdropping until further notice as agreed per meow.

Foggy didn't know the old priest well, he was _'no Father Lantom'_ to quote Matt but he knew nobody would live up to his standards considering the history; but he thought Matt would have mentioned that the priest that replaced him was a friend of his father's family.

Sister Maggie seemed to read his thoughts and sighed. "He left the parish before Matthew was born, he did not approve of our marriage."

The old priest scoffed. "That's not true, the disagreement I had with Jack was about a lot of things, the least of it was his crush on you."

Oh wow, maybe he didn't need to hear this but he desperately wanted to.

"Wore black eyes and bruises like a badge of honor when a quick catnap would have cleared it up in time for a real job interview, the stubborn old - " Father O'Connor grumbled.

"Hiss," Matt interrupted, slinking into the room with his fluffed tail at full alarm. God, he was so fluffy, Foggy itched to take another picture.

"I don't take it back," O'Connor said, narrowing his eyes at the cat. "His pa didn't raise him properly, used to beat him and make him change so it wouldn't show the marks the next day - but he shouldn't blame his gift for his daddy's misuse of it - and he should've told Maggie about it before he asked for her hand - I don't take my advice back on that either - "

"You could have mentioned any of that to me when you found out I had reconnected with our child," Sister Maggie cut him off.

"You didn't tell me you had a *son*, or that he was the man in the mask," O'Connor replied.

"Meow mow mew," Matt said, sitting down primly at Sister Maggie's feet.

"You were supposed to tell him yourself if you wanted him to know," Maggie replied. 

"So this - gift - is passed down to sons?" Foggy asked, lowering his hand so Matt could climb his sleeve and perch on his shoulders, tail swiping back and forth like a clock pendulum as he listened.

Father O'Connor nodded, lowering himself into a chair and tossing his cane to the side. "Every family's got a different story of where they got it from, but for Murdocks, it's most likely a magical source. The scientists blame it all on DNA, see, because their studies are of the strains that all turn into the same kind of cat - every generation's got the same markings and genetics."

He leaned forward, continuing. "But others, like Matthew's family - their animal shape's rarely the same father-to-son. John Sr, your great-grandfather, was a floppy-eared alley cat with a white belly. Your grandfather was a mean-faced tabby with the longest claws I'd ever seen on a shifter. Jack, your father, was a jet black kitten with white socks on all four paws, fluffier than you - had a set of razor jaws on him, though," he smiled fondly. "Only saw him a few times as a kitten."

"So the white cat thing doesn't have any symbolism or - it's just by chance?" Foggy asked.

Maggie warily reached out and touched Matt's fur, snapping her hand back when he rumbled deep in his chest. Judging the purr as non-threatening, she reached back and gave him a full 'pet' across his red tuft and down to the base of his tail.

"Do you want my honest opinion? Because he might not like it," O'Connor said.

"Meow!" Matt said at the same time as his mother hissed "Sean!" and Foggy wasn't sure which exclamation made him wince more.

"It's fairy magic, so it adapts to his environment. Turkish Van's are fancy, pedigree-bred cats, well-cared for and fond of way too much grooming, if I remember correctly. Perhaps Matthew is the kind of person that's rough and tumble enough in his human life that he can afford to be coddled like a prince in his cat life. If this is his first shift, the magic decided he wouldn't need to be ready for a battle because he had people that would take care of him."

The warm steady purr against his shoulder shut out any hissed cat-denials and Foggy - maybe - trusted the old priest a smidge more.

"That's unacceptable, you weren't raised to be a brat-cat," Maggie hummed, scratching the spot behind his ear that Foggy had only discovered after breakfast. 

"You seem to know a lot about it," Foggy said, his neck cold from the lack of fur when Matt acquiesced to let Sister Maggie host his fluff on her shoulders.

"I was assigned to parishes where it's more common, been helping out shifters, cat and otherwise, for a long time. Retired now, thought it might be nice to come back to the Kitchen, make sure Paul's work isn't forgotten in the Kitchen."

"Meow," Matt said.

"He should be remembered for more than his affiliation with Daredevil," Father O'Connor said. "He didn't know about this, and Sister Maggie, apparently, didn't believe it was real - but none of that matters now. You've got plenty of time to think about how to use this new information going forward."

"Mew, meow," Matt rumbled unhappily.

"You know where I am when you're ready to talk, I suggest giving it at least a week to make sure you come back with all your guts in the right place, but - " 

Maggie clutched the scruff of Matt's neck with a pleased expression when he continued purring as she moved him belly-up. "Only if the spots are gone - let's see those black marks."

"Mrow," Matt complained as she poked at the dark patches of fur.

"It's kind of awesome that he manifested as a pampered housecat when it's like pulling teeth to get a cuddle out of the guy," Foggy said.

"It's quite promising, most orphans that don't inherit their lineages start off as feral, terrified little things just from the trauma of getting a new turn-phrase assigned by strangers," Father O'Connor said. "Not every time, if we find them young enough but - it's always easier for the kittens who have their original phrase instead of starting from scratch."

"You're probably disappointed you didn't come out as a tiger or lion to pounce on things," Sister Maggie said in a cooing tone as Matt climbed onto her shoulder in protest of the belly rub at last.

"Most of the American shifters descended from witch familiars and fairy spies in Europe when domesticated cats were common. Wakanda and some South American areas have been rumored to have big cats but I've only encountered domestic ones."

"Mrow," Matt said, rearing back to splay his claws in a threatening position.

"Yes, you're quite threatening, you floof-ball," Foggy said, scooping him up.

* * *


End file.
